Many readers have been remembering the first world war. MissBurgundy has been thinking of Ford Madox Ford’s A Man Could Stand Up, the third part of his Parade’s End series:

The whole book takes place over Armistice Day 1918, exactly 100 years ago, and this year as usual but more than ever I shall be thinking about it. The events take us from morning to evening, reuniting many of the characters from the previous two books, Some Do Not and No More Parades. Ford served in the war and I’m sure that is what makes it feel so real to me – that, and his wonderful writing.

A Month In The Country, JL Carr’s haunting story about first world war veteran Tom Birkin, has moved MsCarey:

Just lovely, and a perfect short read. It slips down so easily but has some substance. Amongst other things I really liked Carr’s handling of that part of the novella which concerns the restoration of the church painting. In general I don’t like fiction about visual art, but he does it so well that I’m almost persuaded that I’m wrong and fiction can do this stuff.

And CaptainChien has been brushing up on some history in Ottoman Endgame by Sean McMeekin:

Well written and researched account of the events, internal and external, that led up to the Ottoman Empire becoming embroiled in WW1. The book looks at how Ottoman involvement affected the course and outcome of the war. It has no outright heroes or villains and McMeekin makes a fair stab at being even handed in his appraisals. Anyone interested in the period or the ongoing geopolitics would find this perspective useful.

Denis Johnson’s Tree Of Smoke, an account of another disastrous conflict, has brought veedale to tears:

I read a great deal, but generally never cry at the end. Just finished Tree of Smoke, Denis Johnson’s epic Vietnam war novel. Difficult to get into but ultimately unputdownable and utterly devastating, magnificent writing from a truly wondrous writer. I cried all day after finishing it.

Robert Seethaler’s The Tobacconist has taken up “a couple of commutes” for pinstripedflower:

It’s set in Austria just before WW2 and for the first 100 of the 250 pages the dark shadow of Hitler only looms in the background. Instead the narrative focuses on the coming of age of a naive “bumpkin” Franz who travels to the big city. Moving and gentle, with a cameo from Sigmund Freud which I wasn’t expecting. A good read, with scary comparisons to current political goings on across the pond.

The divisions in working and living conditions and animosity between the working and upper classes in 1930’s England is explored in unflinching detail. “The lower classes smell” was how George was taught to view his fellow Englishmen as a young man. A fascinating sociological account of a privileged individual from the south living in the world of the industrial working people of the north. My respect for coal miners has reached new heights along with Orwell’s courageous honesty.

I’ve just finished , I enjoyed it from start to finish, perhaps revising my initial impressions of the title character a little as I went on. It did make me wonder about how much of our lives we create for ourselves and how much circumstance forces us down particular paths.

A memoir about working for JD Salinger’s old fashioned publishing agency in NYC in 1996. She’s basically describing the life that I wish I’d had in my early twenties so it enables me to live it vicariously.